Midnight Sons Volume 1 (5 page)

He also liked the way she protectively drew her children close as she looked around. She too, it seemed, was seeking someone.

With a determined effort, Sawyer pulled his gaze away from her and scanned the crowd for Christian’s librarian.

Brown hair and cute upturned nose.

He found himself looking back at the woman with the two children. Their eyes met, and her generous mouth formed a smile. It wasn’t a shy smile or a coy one. It was open and friendly, as if she recognized him and expected him to recognize her.

Then she walked right over to him. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello.” Fearing he’d miss the woman he’d come to meet, his eyes slid past her to the people still disembarking from the plane.

“I’m Abbey Sutherland.”

Sawyer’s gaze shot back to her before dropping to the two kids.

“These are my children, Scott and Susan,” she said. “Thank you for meeting us.”

“Your children?” Sawyer repeated.

“Yes,” Abbey said. It was easy to see the family resemblance between Sawyer and Christian O’Halloran, she thought. Both were tall and lean and rawboned. If he’d lived a hundred years earlier, he could’ve been on horseback, riding across some now-forgotten range in the Old West. Instead, he was flying over a large expanse of wilderness, from one fringe of civilization to another.

Whereas Christian had been clean-shaven, Sawyer had a beard. The dark hair suited his face. His eyes were a pale shade of gray-blue, not unlike those of a husky, Scott’s favorite dog. He wore a red-checked flannel shirt under a jacket marked with the Midnight Sons logo. She suspected he had no idea how attractive he was.

“Hi,” Scott said eagerly, looking up at Sawyer.

The pilot held out his hand and she noticed that his eyes softened as he exchanged handshakes with her son. “Pleased to meet you, Scott.”

“Alaska sure is big.”

“That it is. Hello, Susan,” Sawyer said next, holding out his hand to her daughter. The girl solemnly shook it, then glanced at Abbey and smiled, clearly delighted with this gesture of grown-up respect.

“Could we speak privately, Ms. Sutherland?” Sawyer asked. The warmth and welcome vanished from his eyes as he motioned toward the waiting area. He walked just far enough away so the children couldn’t hear him. Abbey followed, keeping a close eye on Scott and Susan.

“Christian didn’t mention that you have children,” Sawyer said without preamble.

“He didn’t ask. And there was no reference to family on the application or the agreement Christian sent me. I did think it was a bit odd not to inquire about my circumstances, considering that you’re providing housing.”

“You might’ve said something.” An accusatory look tightened his mouth.

“I didn’t get a chance,” she explained in even tones. His attitude was beginning to irritate her. “I did try, but he was busy, and I really didn’t think it would matter.”

“There’s nothing in the agreement about children.”

“I’m aware of that,” Abbey said, striving to keep the emotion out of her voice. “As I already told you, I filled out the application and answered every question, and there wasn’t a single one about dependants. Frankly, I don’t think they’re anyone’s
concern but mine. I was hired as a librarian. And as long as I do my job, I—”

“That’s right, but—”

“I really can’t see that it matters whether or not I have a family to support.”

“What about your husband?”

“I’m divorced. Listen, would you mind if we discussed this another time? The children and I are exhausted. We landed in Anchorage late last night and were up early this morning to catch the connecting flight to Fairbanks. Would it be too much to ask that we wait for a more opportune moment to sort this out?”

He hesitated, then said in crisp tones, “No problem.”

The pulse in his temple throbbed visibly, and Abbey suspected that it was, in fact, very much of a problem.

“I brought the Baron,” he said, directing the three of them toward the luggage carousel. “All I can say is I hope you packed light.”

Abbey wasn’t sure how she was supposed to interpret “packed light.” Everything she and the children owned that would fit was crammed into their suitcases. Everything that hadn’t gone into their luggage had been sold, given away or handed over to a shipping company and would arrive within the month. She hoped.

“Look, Mom,” Scott said, pointing at the wall where a variety of stuffed animals were displayed. Abbey shuddered, but her son’s eyes remained fixed on the head of a huge brown bear. Its teeth were bared threateningly.

“That silly bear stuck his head right through the wall,” Sawyer joked.

Scott laughed, but Susan stared hard as if that just might be possible.

When they’d collected all the luggage, Sawyer stepped back, frowning. “You brought
six
suitcases.”

“Yes, I know,” Abbey said calmly. “We needed six suitcases.”

“I don’t have room for all those in the plane. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get you, two kids, the mail and the rest of the cargo inside, much less enough luggage to sink a battleship. If you’d let me know, I could’ve brought a larger plane.”

Abbey bit back a sarcastic reply. She’d
tried
to tell Christian about her children, but he’d been too interested in his dinner date to listen to her. She hadn’t purposely hidden anything from him or Sawyer. And, good grief, how was
she
supposed to know how much luggage some airplane would hold?

“Never mind,” Sawyer grumbled impatiently, “I’ll figure it out later. Let’s get going.”

Abbey would’ve liked something to eat, but it was clear Sawyer was anxious to be on his way. Fortunately Scott and Susan, unlike their mother, had gobbled down what the airline laughably called a meal.

They loaded everything into the bed of a pickup and drove around the airport to a back road, which took them to an area used by various flight service operators.

“All that stuff belongs to Mom and Susan,” Scott whispered conspiratorially as Sawyer helped him out of the cab. “They’re the ones who insisted on bringing
everything.
”

“Sounds just like a couple of women,” Sawyer muttered. He led them to the plane.

Abbey wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this compact
dual-engine aircraft wasn’t it. She peeked inside and realized that what Sawyer had said was true. There was barely room for her, let alone the children and all their luggage.

“There’s only three seats,” she said, looking nervously at Sawyer. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to figure out that three seats wasn’t enough for four people.

“You’ll have to sit on my desk—the seat beside mine,” Sawyer instructed after climbing aboard the aircraft. “And I’ll buckle the kids together on the other seat.”

“Is that legal?”

“Probably not in the lower forty-eight,” he told her, “but we do it here. Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” He moved toward the cockpit, retrieved a black binder and a stack of papers from the passenger seat and crammed them into the space between the two seats.

“Go on in and sit down,” he said, “while I see to the kids.”

Abbey climbed awkwardly inside and carefully edged her way forward. By the time she fastened the seat belt, she was breathless.

Sawyer settled Scott and Susan in the remaining seat behind her. One look at her children told Abbey neither was pleased with the arrangement. But it couldn’t be avoided.

“What about our luggage?” she asked when Sawyer slipped into the seat next to her.

He placed earphones over his head, then reached for the binder and made a notation in it.

“Our luggage?” she repeated.

“The suitcases don’t fit. We’re going to have to leave them behind.”

“What?” Abbey cried. “We can’t do that!”

Sawyer ignored her and continued to ready the plane for takeoff.

“How long is the flight?” Scott asked.

“About an hour.”

“Can I fly the plane?”

“Not this time,” Sawyer responded absently.

“
Later
can I?”

“We’ll see.”

“Mr. O’Halloran,” Abbey said with a heavy sigh, “could we please discuss the luggage situation?”

“No. My contract is to deliver the mail. That’s far more important. I’m not going to unload cargo for a bunch of silly female things you aren’t going to need, anyway.”

Abbey gritted her teeth. “I didn’t bring silly female things. Now if you’d kindly—”

Sawyer turned around and looked at Scott. “Do you like dogs?”

Scott’s eyes grew huge. “You bet I do,” he answered breathlessly.

Sawyer adjusted some switches. “When we get to Hard Luck, I’ll take you over to meet Eagle Catcher.”

“Is he a husky?”

“Yup.”

“Really?” Scott sounded as if he’d died and gone to heaven. He was so excited it was a wonder he didn’t bounce right out of the seat.

“Um, about our luggage?” Abbey hated to be a pest, but she didn’t like being ignored, either. It might be unimportant to
Buck Rogers here, but she’d rather they arrived in Hard Luck with something more than the clothes on their backs.

He didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he started the engines and chatted in friendly tones with a man in the control tower. Come to think of it, he chatted in friendly tones with everyone but her.

Before Abbey could protest further, they were taxiing toward the runway.

In no time they were in the air. Above the roar of the twin engines, Abbey could hear nothing except the pounding of her heart. She’d never flown in a plane this small, and she closed her eyes and held on tightly as it pitched and heaved its way into the clear blue sky.

“Wow!” Scott shouted. “This is fun.”

Abbey didn’t share his reaction. Her stomach did a flip-flop as the plane banked sharply to one side. She braced her hands against the seat, muttering, “Come on! Straighten up and fly right, can’t you?”

Still talking to the tower, Sawyer glanced at her and grinned. “Relax,” he said. “I haven’t been forced to crash-land in two or three months now.”

“In other words, I haven’t got a thing to worry about.” Abbey shouted to be heard above the engines. She peeked over her shoulder to be sure Scott and Susan weren’t frightened. They weren’t—quite the opposite. They smiled at her, thrilled with their first small-plane ride. She, on the other hand, preferred airplanes that came equipped with flight attendants.

Abbey wasn’t able to make out much of the landscape below. She’d been disappointed earlier; during the flight from Anchor
age to Fairbanks, Mount McKinley had been obscured by clouds. The pilot had announced that the highest mountain in North America was visible less than twenty percent of the time. He’d joked that perhaps it wasn’t really there at all.

She glanced away from the window and back at Sawyer. He’d already demonstrated a fairly flexible attitude to safety rules, in her view. Now he took out the black binder he’d wedged between their seats and began to write. Abbey stared at him. Not once did his eyes shift from his task, whatever it was.

A light blinked repeatedly on the dashboard. Abbey knew nothing about small planes, but she figured if a light was blinking, there had to be a reason. They must be losing oil or gas or altitude or
something.

When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she gripped his arm and pointed to the light.

“Yes?” He looked at her blankly.

She didn’t want to shout for fear of alarming her children, so she leaned her head as close to his as possible and said in a reasonable voice, “There’s a light flashing.”

“Yes, I see.” He continued writing.

“Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“In a couple of minutes.”

“I’d rather you took care of it now.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Ms. Sutherland—Abbey,” he said. Lines crinkled around his eyes, and he almost seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “All it indicates is that I’m on automatic pilot.”

She felt like a fool. Crossing her arms, she wrapped what remained of her dignity about her and gazed out the window.

Sawyer tapped her on the shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about your luggage, either. I’ve arranged with another flight service to have it delivered this afternoon.”

He might have told her sooner, instead of leaving her to worry. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

“What’s that?” Scott shouted from behind her.

Abbey looked down to discover a streak of silver that stretched as far as the eye could see.

“That’s the Alaska pipeline,” Sawyer told Scott.

From the research she’d done on Alaska, Abbey knew that the pipeline traversed eight hundred miles of rugged mountain ranges, rivers and harsh terrain. It ran from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez, the northernmost ice-free port in North America.

Soon Abbey noticed that the plane was descending. She studied the landscape, trying to spot Hard Luck, excited about seeing the community that would be her home. She saw a row of buildings along one unpaved street, with a large structure set off to the side. Several other buildings were scattered about. She tried to count the houses and got to twenty before the plane lined up with the runway for its final descent.

As they drew close, Abbey realized the field wasn’t paved, either. They were landing on what resembled a wide gravel road. She held her breath and braced herself as the wheels touched down, sure they’d hit hard against the rough ground. To her surprise, the landing was as smooth as any she’d experienced.

Sawyer cut the engine speed and taxied toward a mobile structure near the far end of the field. Abbey strained to see
what she could out of the narrow side window. She smiled when she recognized a telephone booth. In the middle of the Arctic, at the very top of the world, it was comforting to know she could call home.

A burly man who resembled a lumberjack barreled out of the mobile structure. Abbey lost sight of him, then heard the door on the side of the aircraft open.

“Howdy,” he called, sticking his head and upper shoulders inside. “Welcome to Hard Luck. I’m John Henderson.”

“Hello,” Abbey called back.

John disappeared abruptly to be replaced by the head and shoulders of another outdoorsy-looking man. “I’m Ralph Ferris,” he said. Three other faces crowded in around the opening.

“For crying out loud,” Sawyer snapped, “would you guys let the passengers out of the plane first? This is ridiculous.” He squeezed past her, unsnapped the seat belt secured around Scott and Susan and helped them out.

Abbey was the last person to disembark. As she moved down the three steps, she found all five men standing at attention, as if prepared for a military inspection. Their arms hung straight at their sides, their shoulders were squared, spines straight. If any of them were surprised to see two children, it didn’t show.

Muttering to himself, Sawyer stalked past Abbey and into the mobile office, leaving her alone with her children. He slammed the door, apparently eager to be rid of them.

Abbey felt irritation swirl through her. How could he just abandon her? How could he be so
rude?
What had she done that was so terrible? Well, she could be rude, too!